Culture

March 08, 2014

You may have seen him during the closing ceremony of the 2012 London Olympics or doing Carnival in Rio, and chances are you'll see him again during the World Cup or Rio 2016 Games. Known as Renato Sorriso, or Smiley Renato, he is Brazil's most famous garbage man. He dances in his orange uniform, that of Comlurb, the city's municipal trash company, with a broom and a big grin, belying the tough nature of his job. It's an image that contrasts with scenes of striking sanitation workers this week, demanding higher wages amid one of the city's biggest annual events.

The strike lasted eight days, exactly during Carnival, one of the most critical times of the year for sanitation as tourists descend on the city and millions of people take to the streets. Garbage piled up all over the city, even in upscale neighborhoods. But the strike ended on March 8 when the city government agreed to raise sanitation workers' salaries by 37 percent. Now the base salary for a garbage worker will be R$1,100, or around $470 a month. The city also agreed to raise lunch subsidies from R$12 to R$20. The head of Comlurb said it could take a few days for the city's trash situation to be resolved.

So what are the implications of this whole episode?

First, there's the matter of mega-events. Trash workers were able to leverage the government during one large event as another approaches. Carnival is the worst possible time of year a trash strike could occur, aside from the New Year, and with less than 100 days until the World Cup, the government clearly wanted to nip the crisis in the bud to avoid another strike in June. It's possible that other workers could try to use the games to win wage increases to avoid a showdown during the World Cup. An airline workers' strike could be particularly damaging; they frequently threaten to strike right before Christmas.

Another issue has to do with the nature of trash itself in Rio. Last year, the mayor began the Zero Trash campaign, pledging to fine those who litter. By November, the city government claimed the amount of litter in the streets had declined by 50 percent, and within the first four months of the campaign, nearly 24,000 fines were given out. But it's not just a matter of threatening fines; it also has to do with a cultural mindset. The mayor himself was caught on video littering, and after the video was leaked, he begrudgingly gave himself a ticket.

Perhaps this culture of littering--knowing there will be someone there to clean up later--goes back to the slavery era. At least the wealthy, many of which have full-time maids, don't need to clean up after themselves at home, so why would they need to anywhere else? With people to clean up after you wherever you go, including the street, a dependency grows on others to do this simple task. And it's no coincidence that many garbage workers are dark-skinned or of mixed race.

Finally, the issue goes to the heart of the social divide. In a country where the rich have long seen poverty as an unchangeable destiny, the trash workers are the type of people seen as happy with their lot, just content to get by and not complaining about their troubles. It's not entirely unlike how slaves were expected to act.

Renato Sorriso is a perfect example of what some want to envision about a trash worker: delighted in his thankless, low-paying job. "My broom is my passport," he told G1 in 2012. In the interview, he said he'd visited six countries because of his fame, and though he'd earned enough to live in upscale Zona Sul, he would like to live in Madureira, a working-class suburb in Rio's North Zone. It's the perfect picture of a poor, working Brazilian, even one with success, who wants to stay "with his own kind," as it were. (He's pictured below.)

But because of Brazil's massive social transformation, even some of the lowly trash workers are moving on up into the new middle class. The June protests were a sign that as Brazilians' lives improve, they demand more, and the trash workers' strike is proof of that. Even these people, a type of Brazilian untouchable, are demanding more. Unlike their famous dancing colleague, they chose to no longer grin and bear it.

May 15, 2013

President Rousseff with university students from Pernambuco, a state that is 58% multiracial and black.

May 13 marked the 125th anniversary of the signing of the Lei Áurea, the law that abolished slavery in Brazil. More than a century after Princess Isabel penned the law, Brazilians of African descent have 1.6 fewer years of schooling than their white counterparts, and earn about 60 percent of what whites earn. Black Brazilians represent 65 percent of homicide victims, and have an infant mortality rate 60 percent higher than white Brazilians. Black Brazilians make up about 60 percent of the prison population, and have an average life expectancy of six years less than white Brazilians. There's a lot of sixes.

To try to correct these historic inequities stemming from slavery, the Brazilian government has made efforts to pass legislation to ensure rights and equal opportunities for black Brazilians. But can one legislate a change in culture?

The first law was passed in August 2012, requiring public universities to set aside half of their spots for public high school students, largely aiming to benefit black Brazilians. And though racial quotas had been in place at numerous universities for at least a decade, the law inspired and continues to inspire controversy. There are those who argue that race in Brazil is too hard to define, and that social class should be a basis for quotas. Some say the system is easy to exploit. There are those who argue that quotas incite more racism, and lower the quality of education. And there are those who simply deny that racism or racial inequality exists at all. Early results show that quotas actually have the opposite effect, since in some universities, affirmative action students tend to get higher grades than their counterparts (though they tend to do worse on standardized testing, according to one study). I recently had a conversation with a black professional from Rio and a white journalist from São Paulo who both explained why they oppose quotas based on a variety of the aforementioned reasons.

"The worst still are those people (many of whom are black) that are against quotas (and other similar things), arguing that they 'never needed them.' And I consider this and say: 'I agree, of course, how could I not? And what's more, I'm also against that whole dialisis thing in public hospitals and wheelchair ramps in buildings.' All that happened yesterday, and continues happening today. The past, like a stone thrown in a lake, creates ripples in the water and has an effect on the present. The past is the present. Racial quotas are necessary today not to correct the historic injustices of the past, but to correct the daily injustices of the present."

Even though Brazilians of African descent make up at least half of the population, only 6 percent of university students are black. That university classrooms have historically been largely white means a major sea change for establishing a more diverse student population. It means changing not only the culture of colleges, but the concept that universities should no longer be centers of privilege.

Then there's the Domestics Law, which was signed in March and went into effect in April. The law has revealed a serious culture clash between the past of slavery and the modern reality of labor rights. Brazil has nearly 7 milliondomésticas, more household servants than any other country. The majority are women, and over half are black. Now, household workers have the same labor rights as formal-sector workers, like a 44-hour work week, a lunch hour, overtime, and unemployment insurance.

The fear is that the law could lead to mass layoffs--around 815,000, by one estimation. Some have complained that they won't be able to afford maids anymore; conservative magazine VEJA published a calculator to determine how much maids will cost under the new law. It also published a cover story about the law with an image of an unhappy man doing the dishes with the headline: "You tomorrow." Globo published a piece about what it will mean for families that have to do their own cooking and cleaning. One psychoanalyst quoted in the story predicted "emotional confusion" and a higher rate of divorces.

Historians compared the legislation to the Lei Áurea, saying it was a watershed moment for black Brazilians. Slavery created a "strongly exclusionary society, despite appearing racially diverse and having social mobility," said UFRJ Professor Flávio Gomes. "My surprise, with the domestics law, is the fact that these workers were in a category of "nearly citizens" in terms of workers rights."

Even today, many middle-class homes, even small ones, have a room and sometimes a separate bathroom for a domestic worker. Relationships between maids and families are complex; the movie "Neighboring Sounds" illustrates this phenomenon well. The law aims to change this, in theory, moving from a slave-owner relationship to one of worker-employer. "We’re shutting down the last of the slave quarters and throwing away the key," Senate President Renan Calheiros said last month.

But will the law work? Will families fire their maids? Will they simply ignore the law and risk being taken to court for inevitably lengthy labor lawsuits? Or will they ignore the law and count on the maid not to complain? Or will unwillingly go along with the new rules? Laws in Brazil sometimes "don't stick," and this is an interesting one to watch.

But the bigger question is if the law will actually change the culture of domestic employment. My guess is: not anytime soon. There has been talk of maid shortages due to women moving into other professions, another element of pressure on people employing domestics. My guess is that if these shortages continue and if families fear backlash from not obeying the new law, they may turn to foreign workers, which has already started happening in São Paulo. Brazil has become an increasingly bigger destination for immigrants, and low-paying jobs that involve going around labor laws are natural magnets for foreign workers.

One can look to other countries, like the United States, to try to see if legislation like affirmative actions works or has a sizeable impact. But how long laws take to change a deeply rooted culture is much more difficult to define.

January 06, 2013

There are plenty of places in New York where you'll find gringos swapping stories of trips to Brazil and their latest Portuguese class, but one place you may not expect is in the halls of the Alvin Ailey American Dance Theater, one of the top dance schools in the country. Through the Ailey Extension, which offers open classes to absolute beginners and seasoned dancers alike, students can learn samba from the indefatigable cariocaQuenia Ribeiro. To the beat of five excellent percussionists (which is quite a thrill for an open dance class), students learn samba no pé and Bahian-style samba to the rhythms of samba carioca and samba-reggae as well as maculelê, afoxé, maracatu, xaxado, and frevo.

Not only is Quenia's class incredibly fun and suitable for a variety of levels, but like other classes at the Ailey Extension, it's really judgement-free, unlike other big dance schools that offer open classes in New York. Quenia's something of a samba ambassador; she runs her own samba group in New York, and has performed in Brazil, China, Greece, and throughout the United States.

I spoke to Quenia about her experience teaching samba in New York and her perspectives on Americans' interest in Brazilian culture.

Where did you study ballet, and why is it important for learning samba?

I studied classical ballet for 18 years in Rio de Janeiro. I
started dancing when I was six. Some of the schools I attended were
Teresinha Goulart Escola De Ballet in Tijuca and later at the Escola
Estadual de Danca Maria Olenewa. I also received a scholarship at Dalal
Achcar.

In response to your question, you don't need to have a ballet
background to dance samba. For me it helped and I feel a firm
background in ballet is helpful for dancers in general. I always tell
students of all ages that they need to keep their minds open to all
forms of dance; just because you dance one thing it does'nt mean you
shouldn't try and learn from other genres of dance as well.

When did you move to New York? Why did you decide to move?

I moved from Rio de Janeiro to New York City in 1995.
My mother and brother were already living here and I was always very close
with them. I think I inherited my mother's adventurous spirit and I
wanted to be in a new place that had a lot different cultures and people
of different interests and backgrounds.

When did you begin giving classes at Ailey, and why did they decide to start offering samba?

I have been teaching at the Ailey Extension for about seven
years. At the time, the Ailey Extension was interested in expanding to
include more ethnic dance forms and I had been teaching at various studios in
New York since 1997. I was approached by the director of the extension to
teach samba and Afro-Brazilian and I have been there ever since.

What brings students to your class: interest in dance, in Brazil, or both? After taking your class, do students consider going to Brazil?

My students attend classes for a variety of
reasons. Some of them have a great passion for various forms of dance and
a solid dance background, whereas others are looking for a fun upbeat
way to exercise that has some history and substance attached to it. As a student, you don't necessarily have to have direct roots to the
culture to appreciate, learn, and participate; just a real interest.

Some
of my students are getting ready to take a trip or have just returned
and are intrigued by Brazil's culture, music, and dance. Others are
interested through their own cultures; maybe they have some roots in
Africa, or through the diaspora in the Caribbean or South America. Brazil
also has a real appeal to people the world over. I think movies and
media has shaped many people's ideas about Brazil in both negative and
positive ways and the truth is that Brazil is not one thing: it is really
diverse culturally and geographically, and has many faces.

During your time living in the United States, have you noticed any changes in Americans' perspectives on Brazil?

In my environment in the United States, people were always
really interested in Brazil. When I moved here, I started taking capoeira classes, so there were a lot of people from the U.S. and from Europe,
Japan, etc. who were already very interested in the culture of Brazil.
Now, I think in general people are really more clued in to Brazil as an
economic and global player through the media and that has expanded
people's ideas and consciousness as well.

Many foreigners tend to think of samba and soccer when they think of Brazil. What's your take on that?

Brazil is really famous for samba and soccer so they're always going to
be associated with Brazil in many people's minds. That is not say that
Brazil does not have a lot of other things to offer as well. I think in
general people don't really understand the cultural power or
significance of samba to many Brazilians. It's a social phenomenon: it's
something that came from simple people that transcended color and
monetary and social barriers. The thing is that samba and soccer are a
combination of a lot of different elements and that is why they are so
recognizeable to non-Brazilians. They are both living art with many
colors and variations, highly developed and evolving, but firmly
connected to the roots and history of Brazil.

September 30, 2012

Two of Brazil's recent primetime TV shows feature the country's rising star of the moment: the new middle class. Cheias de Charme, or Full of Charm, just concluded a five-month run in at 7 p.m., receiving an average viewership of 34 points, higher than recent novelas in the same time slot. Avenida Brasil, Globo's 9 p.m. novela, ends in several weeks and enjoys a large viewership, reaching up to 65 percent of Brazilian TVs. The fact that two of the most watched television programs on Brazil's most watched television network showcased this group is telling, with a number of interesting implications.

Traditionally, novelas were aspirational, often starring wealthy characters. Now, with the two novelas this year, they're intended to be relatable, a reflection of the tens of millions from the C class, or the new middle class. "When we portrayed poor people, they were always dreaming of leaving
their suburbs and striking it rich. But now we want to show a place
that, in spite of being poor, is cheerful and warm, a place where there
can be prosperity,” Ricardo Waddington, coordinator of Avenida
Brasil told Folha de São Paulo. Showing members of the new middle class flourishing represents a new type of aspiration. "Here in Brazil, there's a real problem in understanding how the lower
middle class thinks. This lower class doesn't hold up the
elite as a model. The reference for these people is not the rich, but
rather the neighbor who succeeded," Renato Meirelles, CEO of Data Popular--a marketing firm specializing in the middle and lower classes--told the AP.

In some ways, the novelas are glorifying parts of Brazilian culture long considered inferior by the upper class. The two novelas offer insight into what the new middle class is like: how they dress, speak, and consume--or at least, Globo's vision of these elements. The novelas prominently feature working class neighborhoods, as well as using types of music popular with the new middle class like pagode and forró. Avenida Brasil's costume designer went out to Rio suburbs Bangú and Madureira for inspiration, as well as incorporating what singers and soccer players from working-class neighborhoods wear.

The shows have used aggressive marketing both during commercials and offscreen for the new middle class. Commercials during the show target the C class, with everything from electronics stores to what one could call shoe porn:

As with many novelas, the products used on the show become must-have items, particularly for women, and despite featuring new middle class styles, Avenida Brasil is no exception. Pants and jewelry worn by the Suelen character have been a hit across the country. Globo licensed six lines of products made up for 50 items from Avenida Brasil alone. Riding on the metro in Rio, you can spot an ad labeled "Da TV para você" (from the TV to you), advertising hair products featured on the novela. You can even see ads on some of Rio's highways advertising the Guadalupe Mall as featured on Avenida Brasil.

Targeting the new middle class is an important marketing strategy, given the group's buying power and what the new middle class is purchasing. A recent IBGE study found that the C class spends more money on durable goods like cars, home appliances, and medicine than on food, education, and culture. The C class also helped drive Brazil's credit boom, and in Rio, one can buy a coconut or a meat skewer from a street vendor with a credit or debit card in some cases. As a result, the new middle class is quickly racking up debt; a September Kantar Worldpanel survey found that of Brazil's five social classes (ranging from A, the wealthiest to E, the poorest), the C class is the only one in which people spend more than they earn.

But being the center of one of the country's most watched shows doesn't mean that the traditional middle class or the upper class are celebrating the ascension of millions of Brazilians into the C class.

In fact, there's evidence that some are uncomfortable with this social group--long considered relegated to the outskirts of large cities and outside of spaces frequented by the the well-off--suddenly having money and access. This conflict has been obvious, particularly in places like airports where members of the new middle class rarely set foot before. But now it's statistically proven: a Data Popular survey found that a large portion of the wealthier sectors of Brazil are unhappy with the new middle class. The study showed that 55 percent of upper class consumers believe products should have separate versions "for the rich and the poor"; 48 percent believe the quality of services declined with the rise of the new middle class; 50 percent prefer going to places occupied by members of the "same social class"; 16 percent believe "poorly dressed" people should be barred from certain places; and 26 percent believe subways would bring "undesirables" to their neighborhoods. You also need look no further than Classe Média Sofre, a blog that details some of these tensions the traditional middle class and upper classes have with the new middle class.

"You're seeing people going to the theater or taking a flight for the first time ever, and the first time is very important," Marcelo Neri, head of research institute Ipea and Brazil's new middle class guru told O Público. "But it's a class that isn't accustomed to reading. This creates prejudice from the upper class. There's class conflict at the airports, since the elite always had empty airports to themselves. The new middle class makes them uncomfortable. Culturally, there are a lot of things happening but it's not traditional culture. It's in the periphery of cities."

The novelas may also include less obvious subtext about new middle class culture. Avenida Brasil writer João Emanuel Carneiro described the so-called "poor-rich" characters on the show as those who are "simple people who became rich but maintained their suburban ways." In describing how these characters figure into the show, columnist Mauricio Stycer points out the protagonist's "more subtle objective is to...'civilize' the poor-rich." Será?

September 11, 2012

Last month, the Brazilian movie O Som ao Redor, or Neighboring Sounds in English, premiered in the U.S. to rave reviews. Due for release in Brazil in November, the movie is being pegged as a turning point in Brazilian cinema.

The New York Timesreviewed the movie, making it a critics' pick, and wrote: "The scope of his movie is narrow, but its ambitions are enormous, and
it accomplishes nothing less than the illumination of the peculiar state
of Brazilian (and not only Brazilian) society."

“Brazilian film has to break the mold...99 percent of Brazilian filmmakers are middle class or upper middle class or bourgeois, as I am, yet most of the time they’re making films about people they don’t know that much about and subjects they haven’t mastered. We need more films that don’t take place in a favela or the backlands and aren’t about some guy who is really poor and living beneath a bridge. Maybe then we can talk about a new Brazilian aesthetic.”

First, let me say that while I thoroughly enjoyed the movie, it's not perfect. It's slow, and there are occasionally strange moments that defy explanation. That said, it really is a fantastic cross-section of modern Brazilian culture, and a fascinating reflection on how despite being a modern country, in some respects, some things haven't changed at all.

Right off the bat, this movie breaks the mold by taking place outside of the usual suspects for successful Brazilian movies: Rio, São Paulo, and the sertão. It takes place in one of Recife's wealthiest neighborhoods, with the large majority of the movie focusing on scenes on a single street. It's not about gangs, or drug trafficking (aside from two brief scenes involving a resourceful weed dealer), nor a quixotic adventure in the dry backlands. It really focuses on the lives of a number of families living on a block in Recife. As much as I love Rio, it's really refreshing to see a well-done Brazilian movie go somewhere else, especially a city as interesting as Recife.

One of the best things about the movie is the attention to detail and nuances of every day Brazilian life, from the row of shampoo and soap bottles on the window shelf in the shower to the old-fashioned cafeteira for an afternoon coffee to the unsweetened fresh fruit juice at a family meal. This is not Hollywood-ized; what you see in the movie is really a view of how things look. There's also a strange little detail I noticed in which one of the maids is wearing a donated American skiing tee-shirt, which reads "America Downhill" on the back. Subliminal message, perhaps?

The film has a number of really interesting themes. The overarching theme is a deep-seated anxiety about security that pervades the whole movie. Recife is one of the most violent cities in Brazil with high crime rates, and the residents of the block are all, in different ways, terrified by violence. But in the movie, it's the threat of violence that you see, rather than violence itself. It's important because this obsession with security is pervasive in many big cities in Brazil, where armored cars, armed guards, and paranoia are a way of life for some.

The next theme to note is the universal use of technology and consumer culture. Flat screen TVs adorn the characters' apartments while the guards watch videos on their phones; in one scene, a kid uses a laptop to show a video compilation he made of the doorman falling asleep. Characters reveal the need to consume; there's even an odd fight about who bought a bigger new TV. One character blows up when an imported electronic product is ruined.

There's also an interesting dynamic between a rua e a casa (the street and the home), something Brazilian anthropologist Roberto DaMatta has written about. So much of the movie takes place in people's homes or in their yards, so you really get a snapshot of what home life means. Plus, some of the characters you see in their homes are often quite different in the scenes in the street.

Finally, one of the most interesting concepts in the movie is that of class relations and their evolution (or lack thereof) since slavery ended. The relationship the characters have with servants and service workers seem to echo the relationship between slaves and masters, albeit in a modern world. Construction is ubiquitous and massive apartment complexes are taking over the quiet block in the city. Meanwhile, the plantation house in the nearby countyside that belongs to the local coronel is crumbling, and the small country town the house is in appears to be a relic of another century. But even though the forces of modernity are blazing ahead, can the characters--or Recife, or Brazil, for that matter--escape the past?

July 29, 2012

Brazilian culture is enjoying growing popularity in the United States, with everything from music to video games, from Neymar to cachaça. In some cases, they aren't positive or accurate visions of Brazilian culture, so it's something of a mixed blessing to see Brazil becoming increasingly visible stateside.

Beginning in May, Max Payne 3 brought gritty visions of São Paulo to gamers in the U.S. and all over the world. While it glorifies the violence often featured in other forms of entertainment about Brazil, it also had a surprising attention to detail, ranging from loads of Portuguese with native speakers to real Brazilian designer furniture in a penthouse scene.

The same month, Macy's began a huge Brazil campaign nationwide, featuring both Brazilian products and designers as well as Brazil-inspired products from international brands. Apex, Brazil's export promotion agency, partnered with Macy's on the project. The flagship store in New York designed parts of the store to "look like" Brazil, including a Rio-style calcadão. Stores sold everything from cashews and Guaraná to Natura hand creams and fitas do Bomfim. Lots of products and clothes featured bright colors with "tropical" themes, and language around the campaign used words like "sensual" and "exotic." Nevertheless, the campaign put Brazil in the spotlight in one of the biggest retail chains in the country, and for the past few months, Brazil-themed Macy's shopping bags were ubiquitous throughout New York.

Indeed, Brazil is especially big in New York this summer. The Brazilian national soccer team played Argentina at the Metlife Stadium in June to a nearly sold-out crowd. In a single week in July, the New York Times featured two separate stories on Brazilian culture: a profile on soccer star Neymar and a feature on cachaça. In July, there was even a Broadway musical about Rio featured at a local festival, as well as a Nelson Rodrigues play for a short run. Everywhere you look, Brazilian keratin and blowout treatments are popping up around the city.

Brazilian music in particular has had a good run this summer. This month, an annual music festival at Lincoln Center dedicated a night to two forró bands, which were also featured in the New York Times. The event brought Brazilians, Brazilophiles, and curious New Yorkers alike to dance to the Northeastern beats. Brasil Summerfest returned for a second year, with a week of Brazilian shows including a big performance by Criolo in Central Park. And Michel Teló is now in the top 10 of the top 25 Latin songs in the U.S., with "Ai se eu te pego" continuing to spread among all audiences.

April 05, 2012

With President Dilma Rousseff's Washington visit coming on Monday, everyone's talking about Brazil as a rising power with growing political and economic clout. Brazil has traditionally been a soft power country, given its history of diplomacy, a focus on non-intervention, and its role as a mediator. Now that it's a rising global power, some think it is neglecting cultural promotion, one of its greatest assets. But since Brazil is a champion of soft power, there's an important question: should Brazil work to expand its soft power, or focus on hard power?

BBC published a series of articles on the subject today, arguing that while Brazil already has a great deal of soft power, it could adopt a more coherent, streamlined approach to promoting culture abroad. It also posits that promoting Brazilian culture can help Brazil's economy. Tovar Nunes da Silva, the spokesperson for Itamaraty, said, "We consciously opted against militarization. We're one of few countries in the world where our national hero is a diplomat and not a general. We don't have a choice--our history is soft power." But singer Gilberto Gil, the former minister of culture, believes Brazil is neglecting culture as its international profile has grown. "Since Brazil is becoming more powerful and vocal, its soft power has to grow at the same proportion as hard power," he said.

With an eye on expanding the economy, trying to get a seat on the UN Security Council, and pushing for a greater say at international institutions, is it worth investing in music, literature, movies, fashion, and tourism? From my perspective, it is. First of all, Brazil's boom may not last; it wouldn't be the first time. Brazil's political power may hinge on its economic power, and though there's a lot of confidence that the country has finally reached a level of stability, it's also risky to depend on the commodity portion of its economic success. One of Brazil's greatest assets is its culture and people, and they'll be there no matter what happens to the economy or in international politics.

Controlling the promotion of culture is easier than the complex and gradual consolidation of hard power, and can be less dependent on government. Hard power is also dependent on external factors, whereas Brazil has much more control over promoting its culture abroad. Soft power can have an immediate impact, whereas hard power is built over time. The appetite for Brazilian culture, particularly music, is large and growing in the United States and Europe, but there's plenty of room for more promotion, tours, and exposure. Another plus to promoting Brazilian culture abroad is that it can have reverberations back in Brazil, since when something or someone from Brazil becomes popular outside of the country, they'll then get more love at home. (see: cachaça, Havaianas, etc.) Brazil still imports a lot of popular culture, particularly movies and music, and putting more value on homegrown artists would be a good thing.

Tourism is another factor in soft power, something that the government has put a lot of investment into in terms of PR, especially leading up to the World Cup and the Olympics. While it's important to bring foreigners to Brazil, it's just as important to bring Brazil to the world. One of the best ways to get people interested in traveling to Brazil is by having them fall in love with it before they even get there.

Finally, it's not just culture that can figure into soft power. Science without Borders, the Brazilian government's scholarship program to send 75,000 students abroad to study science, math, and engineering, is a fascinating mix of hard and soft power. On the one hand, it's an investment in Brazil's economic future, but on the other, a diplomatic program that sees people-to-people interactions as vital to Brazil's international role.